The Love I Begged For Was Never Real novel Chapter 448

Two years later.

Thousands of miles away from The Metropolis, in a remote coastal town down south.

The early morning sun pierced through the thin mist, casting a golden glow over the cobblestone streets.

The salty ocean breeze wove through the staggered, low-rise houses, carrying the distant horn of a fishing boat returning to port. It swept past the corner of a flower shop, setting off a crisp, cheerful chime from the wind chime hanging above the door.

Nora wore a faded, light gray chunky-knit sweater layered under a khaki cotton apron.

Her long hair was casually pinned up with a wooden hairpin, leaving a few loose strands to frame her pale, serene face.

She stood at a slightly weathered wooden workbench, her head bowed slightly, trying to pull several thorny roses from a plastic bucket of water.

Because the bones in her fingers had once suffered a catastrophic, crushing fracture, and she had received no proper medical correction or timely treatment afterward, her joints had healed terribly misaligned and deformed.

She had shed the heavy casts and gauze, but those hands—the ones that had once effortlessly sketched brilliant designs, long and elegant—were now covered in a crisscross of pale, ugly scars.

Her knuckles were noticeably twisted and swollen. Even slightly delicate tasks were agonizingly difficult for her now.

Gripping a pair of gardening shears, her stiff fingers trembled as she tried to snip the excess thorns from the rose stems.

The blade slipped, nearly slicing her index finger.

"Nora, put that down! Let me do it."

Accompanied by the bright tapping of footsteps, Anya, her young assistant, dashed out from the storage room at the back of the shop.

Anya was a local girl who had just turned nineteen. With her hair pulled into a high ponytail, she radiated the vibrant, energetic charm unique to girls from small towns.

She hurried over, expertly snatching the heavy shears from Nora's grasp. Pulling the roses toward herself, she began trimming the stems with practiced ease.

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